Cogsworth's Day
by disneylove89
Summary: A one-shot following Cogsworth through a typical day at the enchanted castle. Typical, that is, until an old man comes seeking shelter from the rain.


Cogsworth sighed and kept his eyes closed for a moment, not quite ready to leave his dream. It was such a lovely one, too. He was back in England, on the shore of the lake he had grown up on, watching fish ripple the surface from beneath. He could even feel the cool spring breeze on his face. And of course in the dream, he was human. He never dreamed of himself as a clock; only in his nightmares did that happen. He wasn't sure which was harder; getting the reprieve for a few hours imagining himself as human, or being tormented with the truth even in sleep, but waking up prepared for it in the morning.

Either way, there was nothing to be done. He woke up as a clock that morning just as he had every single day for the past ten years. Resigning himself to getting the day started, Cogsworth reluctantly opened his eyes and climbed out of the small nest he had created from his old human bed. Many of the servants kept their rooms when the enchantment befell them, but modifications had to be made to suit their new needs. He was glad to be keeping his old room; it was set up just the way he liked it, even if he couldn't write with the quill now taller than him or sit properly at the desk.

He pitied those who were relocated from their rooms due to their occupation. Chef Bouche never left the kitchen, and poor Madame Armoire was stuck in that shut-up room on the fourth floor. She often had visitors, of course. Cogsworth himself went as often as he could to keep her company. He never tired of her stories about her theatrical career...

Rustling outside the door told him that if he didn't get out there, Lumiere would soon be throwing the castle into chaos. So he stretched one final time and tried not to think about how stiff he was getting. His wooden body was becoming bit by bit more inflexible, but he didn't dare tell the others about it. Just as he didn't dare mention how Lumiere's candles were slowly getting smaller and smaller. It was his duty to be stoic, steadfast. The others depended on him to set a good example. And mourning what was to be the inevitable, that they all would eventually become immovable things, would do no good.

"Cogsworth, mon ami!" Lumiere's voice hit him the moment Cogsworth opened the door, always kept a little ajar so he didn't have to struggle for the handle each morning. He could still do it, and it was a point of pride that he opened other doors around the castle, but first thing in the morning was too much.

"What is it now, Lumiere?" he groaned, watching Lumiere hop up to him. Thank God for Lumiere, he thought. No matter how Cogsworth resented him trying to run the castle under Cogsworth's nose, his infallible good cheer was a godsend. The castle would have been a much bleaker place without his dear friend. But of course Cogsworth would never admit to that.

"I have come up with a brilliant idea!" Lumiere continued.

"No," he replied immediately, knowing whatever it was would be foolhardy and probably annoy the Master.

"But, Cogsworth, you have not even heard what is it!" he protested.

"I don't need to. The answer is still no." Cogsworth turned and strode down the hall, needing to check in with the servants and make sure they were going about their duties.

He had been keeping the castle running for these ten years, he wasn't about to allow anyone let up now. They needed routine, needed to keep going with their duties. It was the one thing Cogsworth thought kept them from losing their minds as well as their bodies. Everyone hated him for it, but no one dared disobey. Not after Jean-Claude, anyway.

He wasn't the brightest boy, poor Jean-Claude, and liked to slack off before the enchantment befell them. As a kitchen boy he all but tormented Chef Bouche with his lackadaisical attitude. As a brick wall, there wasn't much he could do, but Cogsworth tasked him with keeping watch over the kitchen staff while Chef Bouche was cooking; making sure the dishes were cleaning themselves, the knives were chopping vegetables to the chef's specifications, that sort of thing. But Jean-Claude would rather day-dream, ignoring his duties. Two years into the enchantment, the boy-wall went mute and what remained of a face slowly faded into the brick. Now, as far as anyone could tell, the wall behind Chef Bouche was little more than brick and mortar.

After making his rounds in the kitchens (though he hardly needed to, since Mrs. Potts always kept it running smoothly), Cogsworth ventured upstairs to check on the maids. Technically, they were Mrs. Potts' jurisdiction, but Cogsworth liked to make sure they weren't sneaking into corners with a certain candelabra. Though for quite a number of years now, Lumiere favored only one: Babette. At first Cogsworth thought it would just be another one of Lumiere's conquests, but no, the feather duster really seemed to change Lumiere. He was still a shameless flirt, of course, but as far as Cogsworth could tell, there hadn't been any interludes with anyone but Babette. Too bad it wasn't their love that mattered to break the spell.

His rounds finished for the moment, Cogsworth managed to find a quiet corner beyond the prying eyes of others, and stretched his stiff wooden legs. He had been waddling worse than ever, he knew, and wondered if Lumiere wasn't mentioning it as he didn't mention Lumiere's melting candles. The ticking had been getting worse, too. It was still quiet, only audible as his pulse used to be when he was very quiet and lying a certain way, and Cogsworth could still pretend it wasn't him producing the sound. But for how much longer would that be true?

With one last adjustment to the pendulum hanging around his stomach (it wasn't too bad if he thought of it as fixing his cravat) he geared himself up to visit the West Wing. They had to send for another delivery, and protocol dictated that the Master must approve it. Though Cogsworth took his life into his hands every single time it had to be done. The Master hated being disturbed, and Cogsworth hated disturbing him.

He crawled up steps he used to stride up with dignity, and waddled towards the massive doors of his Master's chambers. The Master had been keeping to himself more and more frequently as the deadline for the enchantment neared, to the point where sometimes these monthly delivery checks were also to make sure the Master hadn't run off into the woods and left them all to their fates. Not that he had ever been one to mingle among them, but in the early days there had at least been sightings of him going out to the forest to hunt.

Cogsworth reached out one shaking brass hand and knocked gently on the door, wondering how bad today would be.

"What?" The growl came easily through the heavy wooden door and Cogsworth took that as an invitation to enter.

"M-Master?" He said, opening the door and peering into the darkness. This place was always in shadow; the Master never wanted the fires lit, or even the candles, and not even the large windows could alleviate the gloom. Not to mention the stench, he thought grimly. It would do everyone good to get in here and clean the place up thoroughly, but he daren't even ask the Master about that.

"What do you want?" Cogsworth looked around and saw a pair of gleaming blue eyes from the far corner.

"I-It's time to discuss the orders for the castle, again. If you have the time, that is. I can always come back later," he added, backing up as the Master stepped forward.

Cogsworth barely reached the Master's knee, and the Master's temper wasn't the best. One day, Cogsworth was certain, he would be flung aside and shattered. Never mind that he could not remember the Master ever hitting one of his servants. Come to think of it, he only ever took his anger out on the inanimate objects. Quite a lot of them, since they littered the West Wing, but never anything that had the sentient minds of his servants. Still, there was always a first time, and Cogsworth was just now a prime target.

"Do you have to bother me with this every month?" The Master growled, stalking past him to stand beside the enchanted rose. "What does it matter?"

"Y-Yes, Master," he stammered, wishing he could be braver. "It's only that, well in this case I simply wanted—that is I thought I should check to see if you needed anything. Before I sent the order out, I mean."

"No." Of course not. What would he want? Cogsworth knew the answer before he came in, but he still had to ask.

"Very well, Master," he said and ducked out quickly.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," he muttered to himself as he hopped down the stairs once again. There had been times when Cogsworth had to flee or else be caught by flying bits of chair. This time the Master was in a relatively good mood.

His next task was to place the order for the castle's supplies. Cogsworth had no idea who fulfilled it, but he sent the letter to the other castle in the province, the one where the Master's father moved to after…

Cogsworth paused in his thoughts. He didn't like thinking about his late Mistress or the young princess, Prince Adam's mother and sister. The Mistress had been such a lovely creature, kind and warm. Her daughter a young ray of sunshine. Cogsworth was there when they died of scarlet fever, saw his then-Master and Prince Adam's grief, and could only guess at what Prince Adam felt when his father moved away, leaving the boy behind.

Perhaps Cogsworth and the others did coddle Prince Adam a bit afterwards. Perhaps they should have stepped up as the parents the young Master would never have again. But how does a servant reprimand a Prince? How could one scold a boy who had gone through such trauma? Cogsworth knew in his bones that he was partially to blame for the Master's selfish heart, but he still cursed the enchantress for what she had done.

He finished the letter, having dictated it to the quill who had nicknamed himself La Plume. Really his name was Thomas and he had been a hall boy who often wrote letters for those who didn't know how. His new role gave him a bit of a big head, but there wasn't much to be done about it.

"You know what to do with that," Cogsworth said when he was finished making out the order.

"Yes, of course Monsieur Cogsworth. I shall send it right away!" La Plume folded and sealed the order, and Cogsworth watched it being carried off by a pigeon. In a few weeks time, the order would appear outside the castle gates, with no one, human or otherwise, in sight. Perhaps it was the enchantress' doing, perhaps not. As long as they kept getting their supplies, Cogsworth didn't want to think too much about it.

Down to the kitchens for lunch, where he shared his meal with Mrs. Potts and Lumiere to hear their reports of the day. Of course, Mrs. Potts was always the more informative one of the two, but Lumiere often had a story or two of some more personal ongoings amongst the staff. While he animatedly told them of how a maid and a footman got into a squabble that seemed to involve the maid losing some feathers in her duster, Cogsworth tried not to envy him.

Lumiere was always the more likable one. He was good at talking to people, at getting them to listen. Cogsworth was the Head of the Household, and he knew his staff respected him, at least enough to wait until he was gone to talk about him. But he would never be liked. He didn't have the knack for talking to people the way Lumiere did, or even Mrs. Potts. And he was pretty sure those two only tolerated him because they had to work so closely together. Still, it was nice to think of them as friends.

"Well, I'd better be getting along with my duties," Cogsworth sighed as the conversation died down, their small lunch gone. Food didn't have the same appeal as it did before; Cogsworth remembered liking food quite a bit, but now it all seemed lackluster. And not everyone ate, either. The wine glasses, for example, never touched the stuff but were often very thirsty.

"I suppose I should as well," Mrs. Potts agreed, chewing on the last of her biscuit. Without hands, she had a harder time eating the little food they did, but there was always a fork around waiting to help her. Anyone would help Mrs. Potts with anything she needed; she was the heart and soul of the household, as he could never be.

"The Master seemed in a good mood today," he commented as they were beginning to disband. "It might be a good time to ask about opening up some of the rooms for a cleaning, Mrs. Potts."

"A good mood?" Lumiere asked doubtfully.

"Well, let's say a calmer mood," Cogsworth amended, trying on a small smile.

"Goodness knows it's been getting worse this past year," Mrs. Potts added. "With less than a year left, it's a wonder he doesn't go back to—hunting as he did."

Cogsworth shuddered, remembering how his Master used to come back with his muzzle bloodied from his latest kill in the woods. They had all feared their Master was gone, replaced with nothing but the mind and soul of an animal, but a few years ago he stopped all that and remained in the castle, proving that there was still some humanity left in that Beast's body.

Cogsworth left the kitchens to check the rest of the castle. On his route his disbanded two separate groups trying to start up some games in the hall, settled an argument between two maids, nearly got run over by the footstool dog, and made sure all the suits of armor hadn't misplaced any of their parts. Needing a break after all that, he decided to check on Madame Armoire.

Of them all, this poor great lady was the only one still mobile, but too large to move around easily. Chef Bouche was just as large, but he was bolted to the wall. They had done an inventory at the beginning of the enchantment, checking every single room to make sure no one was stuck or lost, and Madame Armoire was the only one of her kind. Too big to move around easily, and too out of the way to be visited often. Cogsworth had tried to convince her to come down to one of the lower level bedrooms, but she insisted that it was too tiring for her to move around much, and also argued that she had been placed in this room for a reason, therefore felt it was her duty to remain there.

"Bonjour, Madame," he said as he knocked and pushed open the door.

"Oh, Cogsworth, how kind of you to visit me!" the grand lady cried as he waddled in. "It's been frightfully dull here today."

"I'm only sorry I didn't come sooner, then," he said, bowing slightly to her.

"Now tell me, what's going on out there," she asked, her broad smile expectant. He wasn't very skilled at telling stories, but he did his best to make sure she was updated. Often she would interrupt when something he said reminded her of her past, but he didn't mind.

"It's starting to get late, I should return to my chores," he said reluctantly some time later.

"Of course, I understand. The castle would fall to ruins without you!" she declared.

"I sincerely doubt that, Madame," he said, though her words made him smile. "But I shall continue to do my duty for as long as I can."

"I do so admire that in you, Cogsworth," she sighed.

"Nonsense, nonsense," he insisted, waving a brass hand though he could help his smile from growing broader. "Au revoir, Madame."

"Au revoir, Cogsworth!" she called, waving one of the doors that served her has hands. Cogsworth closed the bedroom door behind him and sauntered down the hall, feeling better than he had all day.

"Cogsworth, there you are!" Lumiere came bounding up to him, his face pulled into an expression of worry. Cogsworth sighed and steeled himself for what disaster might have befallen now, his good mood gone.

"You must come! A man—a man has come through the castle gates! He's—I think he's going to come in!"

"What?" Cogsworth demanded but didn't wait for an explanation before waddling as fast as he could towards the front door. He and Lumiere got to the window beside the front door just in time to see what appeared to be an older gentleman in a brown cloak running up to the door in the rain.

"Scoot!" Cogsworth demanded, pushing Lumiere away from the door. "The Master will be furious if he knows we let a stranger in here! Hide over here!" he directed, pointing at the nearby table. "If we don't do anything, perhaps he'll leave!"

"Cogsworth, you have lost your mind," Lumiere protested, but jumped up on the small table by the door just the same. Cogsworth's gears were whirring faster than ever. A human man had found the castle; what were they going to do? The Master would be so furious if he found out, and that meant doom for them all, this gentleman included.

But of course Lumiere couldn't keep his big mouth shut, and of course Mrs. Potts had to find out about it, and of course they were making enough noise to alert the Master. Cogsworth didn't want to throw that poor old man out in the rain, but wouldn't that be better than being locked in a freezing dungeon? At least out there he might have a chance, but this poor, sick old man was only getting more ill.

The others had dispersed after the Master threw that poor man in the dungeon. The Master withdrew to the West Wing once more, and they were all under strict orders not to give this man any aid. Cogsworth had no intention of disobeying; the Master would find out about it, and he would be firewood for sure. But he was rooted to the floor just at the top of the staircase.

The gentleman couldn't see him, not with only one flickering torch in the large room, so Cogsworth stood very still and watched the gentleman's shadow shiver and shift behind the bars of his door.

This could have been avoided if they had only listened to him. They could've put out a spare cloak to replace his sodden one, quietly open the door outside, and that would be that. The man would be free right now. But instead, he was freezing to death. And what was worse, the man began sobbing in his solitude, moaning the name 'Belle' over and over. Cogsworth didn't know if 'Belle' was the man's wife, daughter, or pet, but the fact remained that someone would be missing him, perhaps someone who would come looking for him. Because Lumiere just wouldn't listen to him, a whole chaotic mess was created. Enough was enough. Cogsworth left the man truly alone, determined to find Lumiere.

"Just couldn't keep quiet, could we?" He marched up to Lumiere, finding him in one of the sitting rooms. "Had to invite him to stay, didn't we? Serve him tea, sit in the Master's chair!" he wailed.

"I was trying to be hospitable!" Lumiere shot back.

"Rubbish!"

"Cogsworth, I was only trying to help the poor man." " To this, Cogsworth snorted. Lumiere just couldn't handle being ignored, that's why he drew the attention of the poor man. "Look at us! Look at you."

"What about me?" Cogsworth demanded, knowing full well and insult was coming that would derail the initial argument.

"Well you always were insufferable. But every day you become a little more inflexible, a little more tightly wound, a little more ticked off." This last part he said with a grin, but Cogsworth only rolled his eyes as his annoyance with the candelabra grew.

"Spare me the stupid puns," he groaned. "The point is—"

"The point is," Lumiere interrupted, "is that we will all gradually become things. Can you blame me for trying to maintain what is left of our humanity?" Cogsworth was about to point out that's exactly what he had been doing all these years, too, but he stopped when he noticed that Lumiere was genuinely upset.

"All I know is," Lumiere continued sadly, visibly sagging, "that I will eventually melt away to nothing. I only hope there is some of me left if the Master does break the spell."

Moved by this rare look past Lumiere's boisterous façade, Cogsworth took a step closer and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Lumiere was only trying to keep everyone's spirits up, and they used to be at their very best when entertaining guests. "Hold on, old man. We've got to hold on."

"Hello?" A voice echoed down the hall and Cogsworth looked over his shoulder. It didn't sound like anyone he knew, but it was difficult to memorize all the servant's voices. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

"What on earth?" Cogsworth hopped towards the door, Lumiere pushing past him, and they both peered into the hall to see a young woman wandering down the hall.

"It's a girl!" They both said simultaneously, turning to grin at one another. Lumiere immediately began hopping after her, calling for her attention. Cogsworth puffed behind him, intent on not being left behind. This girl's presence meant there was still a chance that the spell might be broken, that their futures might not be so bleak after all. If she ended up staying, she would need a room. Cogsworth knew just the one, of course. And if she did stay, perhaps this girl would be the one to break the spell. For the first time in longer than Cogsworth cared to remember, he had hope.


End file.
